When I hear my name I think of a place. A place with a strong chilly wind that bites right through your clothes. Gray clouds fill the sky like a sheet spread neatly over a bed. The sound of rushing water can be heard from most places. It is not dark, but there is a uniform gloom brought onto all things by the clouds. There are beautiful colors out of sight, hidden by the shade. All sweet smells carried away on the silver wind. The soft songs are overpowered by the sound of rushing water. This is not a bad place, in fact it is a great one. It is simply stained, tainted. It is in conflict, hidden from the light. All things good have been reduced to symbols of memory, shut out by the enemy.

 One day though, in a time distant but completely unknown, perhaps the sun will shine again. The raging water will calm. The wind will come to rest. The warmth of the sun, the beautiful colors rushing through the land, the sweet song of the world, and the smells of love that last forever will again return. This time they will never be taken. All of the dark, cold, and evil depart hurriedly, to never be seen again. 

So rests the land, O’ fruitful place, where vivid hue shines. Where all trees bear fruit, and all seeds fall into healthy soil. Those who have waited and trusted in this place have inherited its vast comfort and richness. Their every need is satisfied. Once, very long ago, this is how it was, but this time it is inhabited. It serves as redemption for those who have been lost seeking it. It is no accident that this place is found, no accident that once rushing water is now a clear stream. The sheet of heavenly beaming stars is interrupted. They have waited for all these years behind the clouds, only to be disrupted so soon? 

Beams of divine light may pierce through the gaps in the trees. All will be illuminated. Nothing is hidden. Every color, sound, and smell returns to sing in perfect harmony. Generations of people who have taken shelter nearby to wait in the cave emerge. They knew to come, but they fell asleep and took shelter before this place was ready for them. Here they are, with the rest. All needs are met in full. People still do find this place, though it is difficult. Those who search will find. Newcomers take the shape of a brother or a mother, to join in song with the rest.  Come together now, under a new name, a name to be shared by all. A name that shall not be tarnished, where no shade will rest.